


Wanting Inspiration

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-09-30
Updated: 1999-09-30
Packaged: 2018-11-20 12:02:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11335272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Mulder does some thinking, smut ensues.





	Wanting Inspiration

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Wanting Inspiration by Te

29 October 1998  
Wanting Inspiration  
by Te  
10/98  
Disclaimers: Not mine, but I sure do like playing with them.  
Spoilers: Vague, very vague Fire, Red and the Black, and Fight the Future thoughts.  
Summary: Mulder does some thinking, smut ensues.   
Ratings Note: NC-17. You got your bad language, vaguely disturbing imagery, and a large amount of smut.  
Author's Note: I was talking to Rae about our former 'shipper identities and this happened. Title gleefully stolen from "Thorn In My Pride" by the Black Crowes.  
Acknowledgments: To Rae for fine audience participation. To Viridian for many helpful comments, and to Rye for marvelous beta in the face of troublesome Te-ness.  
Feedback: Yes, please. Always. 

* * *

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Wanting Inspiration  
by Te  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mulder sat in the amazingly un-cheerful glare from his bedroom lamp, idly typing in assorted bureaucratic phrases in an attempt to explain his little vacation to Antarctica. The report would be, as usual, incomplete and well-worth the reaming he'd take from Skinner for it.

But it was pro forma, as were the dress-downs. At times he thought of his life like a Swedish film -- depressing, incomprehensible and oozing with a vague impression of futility that may or may not have been on purpose. 

But he knew these were Bedroom Thoughts. He was only here to keep himself from popping in a vid and jerking off. These days the urge to just willfully fuck up was a powerful one.

He remembered England... senior year and an endless string of Dead White European Males to analyze and no Phoebe to work him over in that emotionally entertaining way she had. There were drugs, and dim, crowded little rooms thick with the haze of marijuana. Sometimes heroin... though even he knew not to stay at those too long. 

But he'd let himself get helplessly stoned, and when some hollow-eyed boy with clever fingers would touch him and ask... he'd follow.

It was always all right, even when they laughed at his attempts to tell them his name, even when he had to get directions in order to find his way back to the dorms. 

He'd find himself on his knees on a chill wood floor, bent over some ratty old couch, and the feel of another man's cock sliding slick and warm inside him was all it took to make it all right.

There was no better way to assure himself that he was truly worthless. And the ones that paid... Well, he may not have ever been a rentboy, but he'd always liked nice clothes.

He wondered what Scully was up to. He wondered if she'd ever actually talk to him about his attempt to touch her someplace she could feel it... Or if he'd only get more of her oh-so-fair casual touches. 

//Touch my back, I'll touch your shoulder, but nothing more...//

He wanted to hold her hand again, even if she'd find a way to make him pay for the privilege.

Everything has its price, and everyone pays.

He thought of Krycek -- Alex -- and the rough brush of stubble on his cheek. Of the following two nights, when he'd shown up unannounced and demanded his own payment.

Mulder had paid and paid and loved every minute. Every second of hot breath on his neck and that calloused hand on his cock. He'd learned quickly that Alex could make him beg for it.

But Mulder also knew that Alex wouldn't ask if he didn't have his own needs. He wondered if Alex ever thought of the price.

He thought so... Alex had never come back after that. He sometimes wished he could just know for sure the other man was dead. He couldn't even tell himself it was because of the terrible not-knowing. No, there seemed to be a definite limit on the quantity of lies he was allowed to tell himself.

He wanted him dead for being able to walk way. For not having this deep, pulsing need that made Mulder long to scream, to fight, to fuck himself raw. 

//If he did, he'd be here.//

Another few words typed in and he decided to pack it up. Made a mental note to go after a few of the agents he'd noticed spending too much time in the evidence lockers. Perhaps a little blackmail. Something to clear the haze.

//Or make it deeper.//

He laughed at himself, then. There was no way he'd ever be able to do that, though the thought had its own black cheer. The really sad thing about it is that it would only make him appear more normal to the rest of the crew. There was something deeply sick about having to file oneself down to be among the rest of the herd, and he'd always avoided it with something like pride.

He told himself the ends justified the means.

//And just what are the ends this time, Mr. Mulder?

//Oh, the usual. Self-destruction, oblivion...

//So are we starting the suicide process again?

//Maybe.

//So why the fuck don't we just use the gun?

//Well, see, that's far too easy.

//You're a sick sonofabitch.

//Indeed.//

He closed it up and stretched out on the bed, plain blue sheets that were a gift from his mother several Christmases ago. They were dusty, and his nose itched. 

//Fucking useless. Can't even remember to pull the fucking coverlet up.//

He was still horny, and the press and rub of his cock against his jeans, against the mattress, was a distraction of admirable power.

The last time he'd used the bed was with Alex, and as he worked and twisted on the sheets he thought of a hand holding his neck, pushing his head down.

He pulled himself to his knees, groaning at the loss of contact, at the rush of cool air against his heated crotch. Head down, ass in the air, waiting for the next slap, the next bite. Praying for the solid reality of Alex's cock, knowing it wouldn't come for a long while. There was no heat behind him now, but this was how it had been.

Mulder had a love for versimilitude.

//I should be naked. I should be bare.

//There's no one here to touch you.

//There's no one here to see.//

He broke the game long enough to tear himself out of his clothes, cheating a bit by stroking himself, but he was just as rough with himself as 

"Alex--"

The choked-off cry made him look around, made him blush and tear his hands away for himself. But he was hard as rock.

No one but himself, no voice but his own, no hand not attached to his own body. He wanted Alex to come: he wanted that pretty peach mouth wrapped around his cock and the unmistakable husk of his moans. 

//I want him to hold me.//

He got back on his knees, rubbed his face against the crumpled sheets. Pretended he could still smell Alex there.And then he let his mind free, remembering, elaborating...

//He said 'Don't move,' but I did anyway. Wiggled my ass like a slut. 

//And begged. You begged.

//"Please, Alex, give it to me--"

//He slapped you on the ass.//

Mulder rolled with the imaginary blow, then did it again because he'd forgotten how good it felt to work himself in the chill night air. To move like a whore.

Or maybe he just hadn't noticed. 

//You want this bad, don't you, Fox?//

"Don't call me--"

And more blows had fallen then and Mulder rolled with them, too, remembering how it had hurt, remembering trying to rear up only to feel that iron hand close around his nape.

//Can't ever give them your name.

//He's not them...

//Close enough for this, for now.//

He slammed his head back down and began to pant. Felt Alex settle his heat along his back and rock much too slowly. Remembered the cool metal feel of the buttons on his ass, the hardness behind.

"Please..."

//Please what?//

"More..."

//He hissed then, bit you on the ear.//

Mulder turned his head awkwardly, tried to make it hurt.

//He ran his hand down your body, pinched a nipple...//

Mulder twisted his own nipple and 

"Harder!"

//Fucking whore.

//Didn't say that--

//He should have.

//He used his nails, then.//

Mulder moaned into the mattress, braced his knees and tried to bring his ass up higher. Alex would like it that way.

//Tell me how much you want it.//

"I want it. God, Alex, I want it so bad--"

//What will you do for it?//

Mulder pushed back a precise few inches, felt air where he knew Alex had been, and rocked.

"Anything you want."

"You don't know what I want."

The voice was never confusable as part of the fantasy. His mind couldn't make that buttery husk. Mulder thought of conjurings, of spells gone hopelessly awry, and was glad he was turned away from the bedroom door.

"What the hell are you doing here, Krycek?"

"What the hell are you *doing*?"

"I was just about to jerk off, actually. You make for good masturbatory fantasies."

Mulder twisted his own nipple again and moaned, biting it off so he could hear Alex's reaction -- a click of teeth.

"I do, hunh? Is this what you've been doing? Thinking about me?"

"Sometimes it's Skinner."

"You ever fucked him? Did he make you scream?"

"Jealous?"

"Fuck off, Mulder. I could just leave."

The very real anger in Alex's voice made the flush dissipate from Mulder's face -- he could feel it -- and he turned on his back, stroked his softening cock back to hardness.

"Yeah, you could. But you won't."

//Please don't.//

"What are you gonna do to make me stay?"

"You've already said I don't know what you want."

"You think I'm gonna make this easy for you, *Fox*?"

"Gee, *Krycek*, I wouldn't dream of it."

Alex snorted. "Don't you ever get tired of fucking yourself?"

"You get used to it."

"Yeah. Yeah, I bet you did."

The softness in Alex's voice was too much to take and Mulder turned away again, pulled his hand from his cock and rested it on his thigh.

"I don't need your brand of psychoanalysis, Alex."

"I thought you wanted me to stay." The smile in his voice was invitation and challenge.

"I was hoping for sex."

And the feel of Alex's weight settling on the mattress was a quiet shock, but Mulder stayed motionless and hoped. 

"I think we both know that's going to happen anyway."

"I wouldn't want you to sacrifice--"

But his words descended into a groan when Alex took the nipple he'd been torturing into his mouth and sucked, softly and steadily. He didn't use his tongue. 

Mulder pushed his hands into the other man's hair and pressed Alex hard against him, hissing at the feel of it on his palms,

He wanted more, but Alex shook off his touch, moved to the other nipple and bit him hard once, and again.

"Christ, yeah--"

Alex pulled off again, resting his hand against Mulder's sternum to keep him down. "Why are you doing this to yourself?"

"This from a man trying to drive me into a homicidal rage?"

"If I wanted to do that I'd just bring up--"

"Don't."

Alex nodded, smirked. "All right."

Mulder pressed himself up against the hand, but Alex only narrowed his eyes and leaned a little more of his weight on him. Mulder sighed. 

"Fine. What, precisely did you want to know?"

"I want to know what you've been doing with yourself, Mulder." A look around the dim room, small moue of distaste at the aging cartons of takeout. "What you were planning to do."

"You think you know all the answers already."

Brush of lips along his temple, too gentle. "Humor me."

"I'm sick of this, Alex. The answers just out of my reach, the lack of a life, a lover who may or may not be dead in some fucking alley..."

Alex winced at that last and Mulder felt a stab of guilt at the run of his earlier thoughts.

"I'm not dead, Mulder."

Mulder reached for Alex's hand and tugged until he eased off a bit, twined his fingers with Alex's.

//I'll give you this, even if you don't know what I'm paying for.//

"I know, Alex. I just want... I want something I can hold onto."

Mulder felt his stomach twist at the sound of his own words, wondered when the rule against lying to himself extended to Alex. He was almost eager for the other man's scorn, for the perfect excuse...

The first brush of Alex's mouth against his felt like a goodbye. The second felt like...

"I'm sorry, Mulder... I don't... I'll try to find a way."

"Has anyone ever believed in you, Alex?" 

The words sounded cruel, but Mulder knew his voice was soft. Alex chuckled against his mouth, ran a clever tongue over Mulder's lip. 

"Not that I know of..."

"First time for everything, I guess."

"Yeah. What you said."

"It only turns me on when you tell me I'm right, Alex."

Alex snickered, ran his lips over Mulder's throat. "So tell me why..."

"Yes?"

"Why weren't you fucking me senseless when we were partners? Was it the gel?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Dammit. When I think of..." A tongue in his navel and Mulder arched to meet it. "... all that I could've had..."

"You've got me now. You're wasting time."

"So I take it that sex now wouldn't ruin the mood?"

"I think we can handle that."

And Alex was moving down and down, nuzzling his crotch, breathing deep, and Mulder felt his hands fisting the sheets. 

"Mmmm... yeah... I want you, Mulder. I wanted you for years..." And Alex's mouth was heat and tightness on the head of his cock and Mulder bucked and moaned.

The pleasure of pretending to be tied, of being helpless before Alex's ruthless assault, was nothing to that of running his hands through dark hair and pulling him close.

//Yes, I want you. Show me how much you want me.//

Alex rolled his head under Mulder's hands and took him deeper, groaning around his length and sucking hard. It wouldn't be long like this and Mulder wanted--

"Yes, please, Alex... more, I need more..."

And there was the graze of teeth he wanted, the wildly enthusiastic tongue along the underside of his cock and Mulder could only spread his legs wider, pull his knees up and offer himself for the devouring.

Alex was just as greedy as he could want and Mulder let his cries descend into the nonsense of need, burning and rising into something like perfection with each pull.

It gathered in his balls, in the base of his spine and Mulder felt a fleeting urge to warn the other man but knew that would only earn him a quizzical eyebrow. 

//Yes, of course you're gonna come for me. You're gonna--//

"Alex--!"

The sensation was that of his soul being pulled right from his body and Mulder had never felt so clean--

Mulder came back to himself with the crash of his body back down to the mattress -- he'd been arched into a bow and his muscles would clearly be complaining tomorrow. For now, though, he was much too sensitive for the tongue lapping him clean and he tugged Alex up for a kiss of himself and the urgency of the other man's desire.

"Mulder, I want--"

"Top drawer, just like last time..." And even Mulder was impressed with the lazy purr in his voice.

Another quick kiss but Alex was serious. "No... not like last time. Right?"

//Oh, this is serious.

//Yeah.//

Mulder ran his hand along Alex's cheek, sucking in a sharp breath at the slow, gentle nuzzle. "No, not like last time."

Alex kissed his fingertips, nibbled at them.

"Although..."

A raised eyebrow, but Alex never stopped nibbling at him, rubbing himself restlessly again Mulder's hip.

"I wouldn't mind another spanking."

"You're a sick sonofabitch."

"Indeed."

"I'll see what I can do... next time."

"What about this time?"

And Alex finally pulled away, rummaged with expert speed in the night table for a condom and slick. "This time... this time I'm gonna fuck the hell out of you."

"Mmm... be careful, it's hard to get rid of demons once they're exorcised."

"Worst houseguests in the world. C'mon, Mulder, spread for me."

Mulder immediately slipped his calves around Alex's neck and gave a tentative squeeze, earning himself a bite to the ankle. 

"Faster, Alex, I'm not gonna bre--"

The first touch of the lube was much too cool and he jerked, hissing.

"Sorry, sorry..."

"Do it--"

"God, you're so fucking sexy..."

Mulder gave up on the shoulder game and braced his heels on the mattress, pushing himself down on Alex's finger, fucking himself in the hopes of driving Alex crazy enough to work him faster.

As the other man was no longer speaking anything resembling English he figured his plan was working. Another finger and Mulder felt his bones melting again.

There was nothing like this, another man stretching him for his own pleasure -- the thought refused to continue. It was wrong, this was for him as much as it was for Alex and there was no way any part of his mind was going to let him forget that.

//For now...//

"Are you ready for me?"

"Always, always, please..."

Alex took him with a slow rock and Mulder was grateful for the lessened urgency. He wanted to watch the other man's face and he did, taking in the parted lips and tightly closed eyes with the hunger that only comes from wanting to know yourself desired. 

This was perfect.

"Fuck me, Alex, c'mon--"

A groan of near pain and Alex started to move, a liquid glide that picked up speed and intensity with each stroke. Mulder braced himself more steadily and worked himself down on Alex's cock...

"Yes--"

... taking the pulse and throb as his due, even if he didn't quite feel worthy of the moans. 

It didn't take long before Alex's thrusts grew ragged and Mulder bore down as much as he could, milking the other man's cock with ruthless attention.

"Come for me, Alex, I wanna see it--"

"Mulder, oh Christ--"

A raw howl and Mulder watched Alex's entire body shudder for an endless moment before he collapsed against him, nearly knocking the breath from his body.

Mulder wrapped his arms around Alex's body, damp and hot with sweat, and the rough pants were as fine as the poorly-rhythmed kisses against his throat, as the solid weight of his lover. 

//You're going to give me a way to reach you, or I will hunt you down and kill you.//

"Mulder..."

"Stay the night."

"I couldn't... couldn't move if I wanted to."

"Damn, does that mean I can't use the cuffs?"

"Ask me in the morning."

~~~~  
End.  
~~~~


End file.
